About Rationally Speaking

Rationally Speaking is a blog maintained by Prof. Massimo Pigliucci, a philosopher at the City University of New York. The blog reflects the Enlightenment figure Marquis de Condorcet's idea of what a public intellectual (yes, we know, that's such a bad word) ought to be: someone who devotes himself to "the tracking down of prejudices in the hiding places where priests, the schools, the government, and all long-established institutions had gathered and protected them." You're welcome. Please notice that the contents of this blog can be reprinted under the standard Creative Commons license.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Aristotle vs Rawls and the meaning of fairness, part I

by Massimo Pigliucci

A really fascinating and, as we shall see in a moment, somewhat nasty dispute has exploded in the philosophical public sphere, and I think it’s going to be interesting to see why - both sides have a very good point. In general, as is clear from much of my writing in recent years, I think philosophy is most relevant when it engages in public debate concerning things people actually care about, and this is certainly one such instance.

To set the scene, we are going to talk about apparently irreconcilable views of morality: Aristotle-style virtue ethics and John Rawls-style contractarianism. On one side of the debate is Stephen Asma (Columbia College, Chicago), author of Against Fairness; on the other side we have Marilyn Piety (Drexel University), author of Ways of Knowing: Kierkegaard’s Pluralist Epistemology (which has nothing to do with the topic at hand, however).

I will proceed in three phases. First, I will summarize Asma’s provocative thesis, as it was laid out in a recent Stone article in the New York Times. Then I will consider Piety’s response, published in Counterpunch (she was actually responding to a slightly different article by Asma, in the Chronicle of Higher Education, but the NYT version is about the same). Finally, in the next post, I’ll explain why I think both authors are (largely) correct, except for the fact that their respective approaches to morality have different and complementary domains.

Asma begins by noticing that a concept close to “universal love” (i.e., caring for everyone on the planet) is an ideal that is common to a number of religious traditions, from Christianity to Buddhism, as well as of several ethical systems, including utilitarianism. He claims that the idea is also at the center of modern political liberalism, but that it is based on a fundamental misunderstanding. Empathy, which is necessary to genuinely care about someone, is an emotion, and it exists in a definitely finite supply to most human beings. Since even Kant admitted that “ought” implies “can,” if it turns out that it is simply not possible for members of Homo sapiens to constantly expand their circle of empathic concern, then it makes no sense to build ethical systems based on just such a requirement.

Asma then takes on two of the major exponents of the “expanding circle of ethical concern” way of thinking: Jeremy Rifkin and Peter Singer. I will limit my comments to what Asma has to say about Singer, the reader can check out the bit about Rifkin in the original article.

Famously, Singer has been arguing that the human ability to reflect on things, and on ethics in particular, has made it possible for us to transcend our instinctive tribalism, continuously expanding our circle of concern throughout history: immediate family and limited in-group > city or local community > nation-state > all humans > other species on the planet (most people living in the 21st century are somewhere between the last three stages, depending on how reflective they are about the welfare of their fellow humans and of other biological creatures).

Singer bases this idea on logic: as I reflect on my concerns and those of other people, I begin to see (i.e., rationally appreciate) that although my own and my family’s needs seem special, in reality they have no unique claims against similar concerns typical of any other human being. The same then applies to thinking about my nation-state vs others (take that, American exceptionalism!), and eventually even to consideration of our species vs others (especially those characterized by brains complex enough to experience pain and suffering).

The problem, Asma contends, is not just that this sort of caring for everyone equally is humanly impossible (though that would be enough, see Kant above), it’s that it’s not actually moral. For Asma it is not true that everyone is entitled to my concern equally. As he puts it: “In the utilitarian calculus, needs always trump enjoyments. If I am to be utterly impartial to all human beings, then I should reduce my own family’s life to a subsistence level, just above the poverty line, and distribute the surplus wealth to needy strangers.” While, to his credit (for consistency) that’s not too far from what Singer does in practice, a moment’s reflection will show that Asma has a point.

For instance, I have been in the process of saving money for my daughter’s college for close to 16 years now [1]. If I were a utilitarian (which I definitely ain’t!), shouldn’t I instead identify the most needy people in the world and give much or all of that money to them? Surely the total happiness/pain balance would be improved that way. But I won’t do that, and I don’t think my choice is immoral. On the contrary, it is based on the morally binding special relation I have with my daughter. I brought her into this world, and she relies on me to help her as much as possible to get her life in good shape, which surely includes as decent an education as I can afford for her.

Asma applies the same argument to our local community, i.e. to the people we actually interact with throughout our lives: “tribe members donate organs to you, bring soup when you’re sick, watch your kids in an emergency, open professional doors for you, rearrange their schedules and lives for you, protect you, and fight for you — and you return all this hard work. Our tribes of kith and kin are ‘affective communities’ and this unique emotional connection with our favorites entails great generosity and selfless loyalty.”

Shifting to a more overtly virtue ethical framework, Asma adds that concentrating our care in small circles is also morally good because it fosters the development of good character traits, including generosity, loyalty, and gratitude. He is with Cicero, who said “society and human fellowship will be best served if we confer the most kindness on those with whom we are most closely associated.” Presumably, the idea is that if we all carry out our local ethical duty, the circle will indeed expand, but not because every single individual will come to care for every other single individual; rather, there are going to be a large number of partially overlapping local circles.

Asma thinks there is not just philosophical reason, but good empirical evidence to back up his (really, Aristotle’s) approach. Surveys are quite clear, for instance, that a major component of eudaimonia (a good, fulfilling life) is the extent and solidity of one’s social networks of friends (no, not those on Facebook). As Epicurus put it: “Of all the things which wisdom provides to make us entirely happy, much the greatest is the possession of friendship.”

The most unfortunate thing about Asma’s article — as we shall see in a moment — is that he uses a vocabulary that too easily lends itself to misunderstanding and outright dismissal. For instance, he keeps characterizing his ideas in terms of “favoritism,” and even “nepotism.” It’s clear from the context what he means by these terms, but someone unsympathetic with his views will have an immediate entry point to tear the whole thing to shreds. Which is exactly what Piety does in her response, and with some disturbing gusto.

She begins in a way that not even the most egregious of the New Atheists would be able to match: “It’s rare when a person does something that is at once so idiotic and so heinous that it brings discredit upon his entire profession. I fear philosopher Stephen T. Asma has done this. ... I’ve bragged for years to friends and relatives that the philosophy curriculum at the graduate level is so rigorous that it weeds out the kinds of morons who all too often are able to make it through other Ph.D. programs. ... I stand corrected! Stephen T. Asma’s article ... is the worst piece of incoherent and morally reprehensible tripe I think I’ve ever read in my life.” Ouch. Clearly, Piety feels strongly about fairness and Asma’s critique of it. But does she have any good counter-arguments? Sort of.

She takes Asma to task for misusing terms like “favoritism,” bringing up the definition of that word according to the Oxford, which includes the word “undue” (as in “undue preference”). However, that’s hardly convincing. Philosophers (and other academics) re-define words all the time, and it is a pillar of philosophical debate (which good Ph.D. programs do teach...) that one ought (morally) to interpret one’s opponent’s arguments as charitably as possible, or one risks fighting straw men. (There is also a difference between a strong attack on someone’s writing — a feature of professional philosophy I do enjoy — and straightforward insult, which is a no-no in any academic circle, and should be so in everyday life too.)

Piety persists in her more than derisive tone before getting to her counter-arguments: “The piece, as Kierkegaard would say, is something both to laugh at and to weep over in that it’s such an inept piece of argumentation that it’s hilarious while at the same time being profoundly morally offensive. ... [Asma positions] himself as a sort of imbecilic David over and against the Goliath of the philosopher John Rawls whose theory of justice as fairness is much admired by philosophers.” Well, I don’t know what Kierkegaard would have said, but calling someone an imbecile hardly advances rational discourse.

Midway through her rant, Piety finally begins to provide some substantive reason to her readers to discard Asma’s imbecility. Her first move is to accuse her opponent of committing the naturalistic fallacy, because he points out that a tendency to care for our immediate circle (“favoritism”) is natural for human beings. Indeed, she chastises Asma for making such an elementary mistake, since as a professional philosopher he ought to know better.

Except that, again, this is a highly uncharitable reading of Asma. Yes, he does point out that “biased” care is natural, but he also goes on to provide what he thinks (justly or not remains to be seen) is a moral argument in defense of his position (the one about members of the in-group being bound to each other by a special — because personal — loyalty, communal dependence, and so on, as well as the one based on the idea that caring for people in your community develops virtues).

Piety has a better point when she moves on to reject Asma’s example of the feminist movement as an example of “tribalism” (which he uses in a positive connotation, not as an insult). Piety is correct that the feminists Asma names, Rosa Parks and Susan B. Anthony, do not fall into that category, since they were asking for equal treatment of women within the context of a profoundly unequal society, not for special consideration. Even so, Piety’s dismissal of Asma’s example here is a bit too quick, as there are in fact significant currents within the many faceted feminist movement that do claim special insights and special consideration for women. Moreover, a major feminist approach to ethics, the so-called ethics of care idea, explicitly criticizes the concept of universal moral standards embedded in the dominant deontological and utilitarian approaches to ethics.

Piety also takes Asma to task for relating an anecdote about his son and, again, getting the big picture fundamentally, even viciously, wrong (this is in Asma’s Chronicle article, not in the NYT piece). The story has to do with Asma’s initial pride at his son coming home with a ribbon for having won a footrace at school. Pride that quickly dissipated once Asma realized that everyone had won the race (i.e., everyone was given ribbons, regardless of actual placement). Asma takes this to be one example among many of a pernicious overemphasis on egalitarianism, specifically of the idea of equality of outcomes as distinct to the much more defensible equality of opportunity. Piety responds that children are in no danger of growing up under the illusion that they will always be winners, so that there is no harm, and indeed there may even be some good, shielding them just a little longer.

There is a subtle but interesting difference in the take of the two writers on this anecdote. Asma makes the (moral) point that it isn’t good for one’s character to cheapen an “award” by giving it to everyone. Aristotle would have said that that is contra to the very purpose or nature of an award. Piety, instead, makes the (empirical) claim that awarding everyone either doesn’t matter or may even be good for the children. She thereby invokes an evidence-based standard (without actually providing the evidence) and completely skirts the virtue ethical point (which is not inherently empirical). I’m with Asma on this one. Indeed, I find it an interesting contradiction of American society that it is permeated with a strong ethos of competition (unlike, by and large, European societies, or Japan’s), and yet Americans of late have become so obsessed with protecting their children [2] that they engage in the sort of ridiculous “everyone’s a winner” behavior that draws sarcastic smiles from the rest of the world.

Piety, finally, concludes her assault with dire thoughts about the apocalypse. Mentioning Chomsky, who said that — despite major setbacks — we have been making moral progress, as evidenced for instance by the fact that nobody mounts public defenses of slavery anymore, she counters: “if we’ve regressed to the point that it is now socially acceptable to publish moral defenses of favoritism, and attacks on fairness, can defenses of slavery be far behind?”

I don’t think Asma’s position is entirely sound (despite my strong sympathies for virtue ethics), and I do feel the pull of Rawls’ positions on justice as fairness. But no, I don’t think that questioning Rawls amounts to the beginning of a slippery slope that will end in the re-institution of slavery. Indeed, I suspect that there is a reasonable way to reconcile the two very different positions we have sketched so far in an intellectually, and morally, satisfying way. Stay tuned for part two...

——

[1] Because I live in the United States, where college is a fracking incredibly expensive luxury. My father, in Italy, paid a few hundred dollars a year for my pretty darn good education. But that’s another story.

74 comments:

The article by Asma was interesting. I won't use the insult heavy style of Piety, but the article has several major conceptions which I find troubling.

My most basic problem is his assumption that empathy and love are limited quantities which can only be effectively used with those close to you. People don't have enough capacity to extend their empathy and love to other people outside their inner circle. It is a very limiting opinion of humanity and it definitely isn't a defining characteristic. My inner circle and family aren't diminished by my caring for the greater world. The fact that he can't open up his love and empathy to a broader field speaks more to his limitations than the limitations on love and empathy.

I also disagree with his statement that empathy is an emotion, but not a concept. It is both. The concept of empathy has an origin in the biological emotion, but it has grown beyond that. Just like altruism has. It isn't just a matter of biology anymore and I definitely agree with Piety's idea that he is stuck in the naturalistic fallacy.

His whole position on sharing is limited, too. The example of the shoes was bad. I can make sure my child is well taken care of and help make the world a better place at the same time.

The one thing I really found interesting is reading the bio on his website. For someone who has done a lot of work on Buddhism, which includes lecturing in Cambodia, he completely missed the mark on understanding Buddhism.

For someone who has done a lot of work on Buddhism, which includes lecturing in Cambodia, he completely missed the mark on understanding Buddhism.

If you are referring to his "Buddha-like compassion for all creatures" reference in the NYT/Stone piece, then it seems close enough to me. For example, the Karaniya Metta Sutta (Sn 1.8) of the Pali Canon says:

Even as a mother protects with her lifeHer child, her only child,So with a boundless heartShould one cherish all living beings;

Buddhist meditation (viz. metta techniques) may help certain dedicated individuals to approach this ideal, but it's a tall order, nonetheless - one that no human society (not even dominantly Buddhist ones) has yet to fulfill, as far as I can tell.

No. I am talking about a whole article justifying his disbelief in equality, fairness, the value of empathy, the desire to reduce suffering in the world and several other things which are directly contrary to the Buddhism he is supposed to be an expert in. The underlying message of his article is that it is all wasted because it is not possible since empathy is meant only for those close to you.

It seems this argument is a matter of degree. Asma argues that“universal love” is an *ideal* -- but ideals need not be absolutely realized.

Should we abandon the concept of making murder illegalbecause it is not practical to find and prosecute *everyone* who commits a murder? Why must these things be thought of as “all or nothing” propositions?

You mentioned spending money on your daughter’s education asopposed to giving the money to the poor.

Suppose we carry that concept to an absolute. Would you, forexample, refuse to give money to the poor in order to provide your daughter with a solid gold toilet seat? Insist upon yourdaughter being provided with slaves?

I am not criticizing your choice, but simply pointing out that you can distort useful concepts into absurd extremes – which seems to be Asma’s method of dismissing universal love.

Perhaps it would be a bigger favor to your daughter to bequethto her a more equitable society, rather than to bequeath to her a degree that comes with a divided society full of desperate people who might want to violently take take their frustrations out on some "snooty college girl”.

When people are told that they have no right to fairness, they might take it into their heads that the elite have no right to property or safety.

>Presumably, the idea is that if we all carry out our local ethical duty, the circle will indeed expand, but not because every single individual will come to care for every other single individual; rather, there are going to be a large number of partially overlapping local circles.

Well, I will just note that this is overoptimistic as grounds for the expansion of the ethical circle. Suppose there are 3 people in the world: Alice, Bob and Carol. Alice and Bob care about each other, Bob and Carol care about each other. Does Alice care about Carol? Only insofar as she cares that Bob cares (which is to say, not much).

Philanthropists are not donating to charities because they think they might be connected to recipients via some Kevin Baconesque six degrees of separation. They're doing it because at least in their reflective moments, they do actually give a damn what happens to strangers.

>Since even Kant admitted that “ought” implies “can,” if it turns out that it is simply not possible for members of Homo sapiens to constantly expand their circle of empathic concern, then it makes no sense to build ethical systems based on just such a requirement.

It seems like Asma is tendentiously requiring anyone who wants to "expand the circle" to be constantly *experiencing* a strong empathic connection, every second of their lives. That is probably psychologically unworkable, but luckily it isn't required (monks can attempt it if they so desire).

For example, we are capable, as humans, of(1) deliberately reflecting on the moral importance of animal suffering (aided by empathy) and coming to the conclusion that it isn't worth the minor benefit we get from it,(2) committing ourselves to behaviour that minimizes that suffering, and(3) sticking to that behaviour.

Step (3) doesn't require us to *actually be empathizing with the animals* every time we choose salad over steak. How silly.

>For my purposes, I’ll stick with Cicero, who said, “society and human fellowship will be best served if we confer the most kindness on those with whom we are most closely associated.”

The moral worth of partiality is an interesting question for someone with utilitarian tendencies like me; I will just note that it is easy to take Asma's line way to far.

Talk to somebody who has lived in a country with high levels of corruption and nepotism, they will tell you just how great things turn out when everybody looks after their own.

There is an old Soviet joke: a traffic cop pulls somebody over and starts writing a speeding ticket."But I wasn't speeding, officer!""Do you expect my poor, hungry kids to wait for you to break the law?!"

Asma has got it right on the money. Take the Iraq War for example: Sure, some people think that killing tens of thousands of Iraqis in a pre-emptive war to secure oil fields was "immoral" and "unjustified". But when we get down to it, it's really the close circle of friends and family we care about, not "humanity" as a whole. And one clear way we can help our close friends and family is by giving them cheaper gas. Sure, the Iraqi people suffered for it, but hey, I don't know them personally, so why should I care?

Besides, it's not like it's possible to find a balance between the well-being of our families and friends and the welfare of humanity in general. If you choose to give to charity, you have to give ALL your disposable income to charity- them's the rules.

Well, thank you for making the point I want to make better than I ever could. I don't want to blame Asma, especially since I haven't even read him yet. But when you are a moral philosopher, you're supposed to think about the effect you'd have on your readers.*The point of utilitarianism is not to become a perfect utilitarian. It's virtually impossible. But you can always strive to be a better utilitarian. It's not an all or nothing thing.

You can't do actual Bayesian calculations on real world problems. But that doesn't mean you can't become better at Bayesian reasoning.

Yeah, I admit my comment was a bit ... off the cuff. If the war was about oil it had more to do with maintaining strategic control over the fields than the prices (and the Iraqi oil ended up going to China anyways).

That being said, I still think there's a point to my flawed (non)example - if you do away with the universalist aspect of morality, why shouldn't you harm strangers if doing so will benefit your loved ones?

I will be happy to give you an opinion when I am done. I have to say that it has been good so far. The explanation of Freud's attitude towards nurturing infants and how that contributed to the excessive narcissism and competitive nature of Western society has been a real eye opener. It is also definitely well researched.

For example, animal rights activists can shout bloody murder all they want. If I 'aint feeling it, then the most they're likely to get out of me is a cool concession to an intellectual argument, based on certain conditions, premises, assumptions, or abstract concepts - like rights.

On the other hand, when I try to envision a "good society", it's one that allows "close family and friendship ties" to form and thrive in the first place. It seems quite unnecessary that I, in fact, love all citizens (let alone all humans or all sentient beings) equally in order to recognize that this interest is perhaps best served by a certain degree (however small) of loyalty to abstract concepts - like rights of citizenship (or humanity or sentience).

> Should we abandon the concept of making murder illegal because it is not practical to find and prosecute *everyone* who commits a murder? <

But Asma isn't talking about morality, he's talking about morality. The two are certainly related, but not equivalent.

> Perhaps it would be a bigger favor to your daughter to bequeth to her a more equitable society <

She'd be long dead by then. Of course I can still work toward a more equitable society while caring for my daughter. The point is that those duties are asymmetrical, with my daughter getting the lion's share of my efforts.

> When people are told that they have no right to fairness <

Again, this is about morality, not the law. In the second part I expand on how the two can be reconciled.

> Philanthropists are not donating to charities because they think they might be connected to recipients via some Kevin Baconesque six degrees of separation. They're doing it because at least in their reflective moments, they do actually give a damn what happens to strangers. <

Agreed, but even the best philanthropists don't behave anywhere near the utilitarian ideal (think Snger). Asma's point is that this isn't just a matter of or activities, but that they have a moral duty not to be perfect utilitarians.

> Talk to somebody who has lived in a country with high levels of corruption and nepotism, they will tell you just how great things turn out when everybody looks after their own. <

Yes, but once again this hits on the crux of the matter: the distinction between personal morality and public law. Next post...

>"Yes, but once again this hits on the crux of the matter: the distinction between personal morality and public law. Next post..."

Both these have to do with values, but I don't see why you need to reconcile the two. Our starting point for morality is 'ourselves', while for public law or what I will call ethics, is 'ourselves within some social context'. Or whatever description you like - point being the starting points from which we consider our future behavior are different. Ethics is then based upon intersubjective agreements.

As I see it we can force our morality underneath a broader ethics - so as to comply, or vice versa (basically imposing our morality on the public sphere, like religion!).

Or instead leave the two FAPP separate. A NOMA analog, if you will (I'm *not* endorsing NOMA).

I think this more recognizes the reality of the situation instead of twisting our minds in knots attempting some synthesis. Instead we know the two will clash and must circumstantially make decisions when that happens.

Interesting read, thanks. From the post linked: " I would resolve the moral paradox of Valjean and Javert not by condemning either of them, but by condemning the foundation beneath them both, the corrupt society which forces two virtues into opposition".

That requires some thought - I don't see how we can possibly avoid the clash, but perhaps there is merit in looking further into the public component, in this case, to see if the source of the clash came from the public sphere 'holding' two opposing virtues as opposed to the individual within the society holding to his/her values which clashed with the public ethics.

>Agreed, but even the best philanthropists don't behave anywhere near the utilitarian ideal (think Snger).

And that's the problem. Sure, there's a truth to Asma's points, but seeing as practically no one lives up to the utilitarian ideal, do we really need anyone scolding us for having it as an ideal? Does he really think that the world doesn't have enough nepotism and favoritism already?

Given that nepotism/favoritism is a natural human tendency, the challenge of human societies is getting people to put their nepotist/favoritist tendencies aside when in issues of public law, not the other way around.

>Agreed, but even the best philanthropists don't behave anywhere near the utilitarian ideal (think Singer).

Most of us would say that we are trying to balance the utilitarian ideal with actual livability by imperfect humans with special relationships (we come back to Kant, and "ought implies can").

As an aside: to be honest, I dislike the constant refrain that utilitarianism "requires" you to give most of your money away. Utilitarianism is good at providing *reasons for action*, but it's pretty silent on whether you're a "good person" or not if you fail to give a marginal 1% more. The perfect is often the enemy of the good in ethics. People seem to use "But I can't imagine giving 20%!" as an excuse not to give even $1, and then they spend the remainder on a plasma TV.

>Yes, but once again this hits on the crux of the matter: the distinction between personal morality and public law. Next post...

> The point of utilitarianism is not to become a perfect utilitarian. It's virtually impossible. But you can always strive to be a better utilitarian. It's not an all or nothing thing. <

Agreed, but the point under discussion is whether utilitarianism is a morally defensible approach, and under what circumstances. Your objection already assumes a positive answer to the underlying question.

To use your analogy:

> You can't do actual Bayesian calculations on real world problems. But that doesn't mean you can't become better at Bayesian reasoning. <

One first has to agree that Bayesianism is a good approach to evaluating evidence (which I do, by the way).

No doubt. I was only responding to Tony's //If you choose to give to charity, you have to give ALL your disposable income to charity- them's the rules.// comment. He doesn't believe that, but many do.

To respond to you, there is nothing in the universe that would prove utilitarianism to be immoral unless you adopt a moral system that explicitly says that. I dare say that given my goal of well being of human species and its robotic descendants, utilitarianism is better than Asma-ism.

I also think that you don't need to be told to favour your daughter over other people's daughters. That tendency is already there. Calling that morality is just doing whatever you are already doing morality.

I don't think Ayn Rand has to tell us to be selfish for us to be selfish either.

>To respond to you, there is nothing in the universe that would prove utilitarianism to be immoral unless you adopt a moral system that explicitly says that.

There is some reason to think that utilitarianism is, at least, incomplete. I say this as an enthusiastic sympathizer of preference utilitarianism.

For example, it's possible to argue that promise-keeping behaviour is ethically (and rationally) indispensable, while the classical utilitarian theories are willing to break a promise as soon as the utility interval for doing so becomes positive.

You can of course find inconsistencies and inefficiencies of a moral system, without the use of another moral system. Still you need another moral system to claim that a moral system is immoral.

Asma is not utilitarianism humanly impossible, incomplete or inconsistent. He's saying that it’s not actually moral. To make that claim, one must subscribe to a system of morality that explicitly states that. If you're saying that the fact that utilitarianism okays promise breaking as soon as the utility interval for doing so becomes positive, and that it's immoral, you need to have adopted another moral system that condemns such actions.

So given my goal of achieving a higher standard of living for the entire human species and its robotic descendants, why would I want to subscribe to Asma's kind of moral philosophy?

> Most of us would say that we are trying to balance the utilitarian ideal with actual livability by imperfect humans with special relationships <

Yes, but as I mentioned above, the question here is not whether it is possible to be a perfect utilitarian (whatever that may be), but rather whether that is something we should aspire to, even as an ideal.

An assumption I see here and there in this discussion - perhaps it's in Asma's paper as well - is that ethics has some special connection to empathy, compassion, love, and caring. This is a mistake. Ethics is about rationally understood obligations of a certain sort - obligations that one has regardless of one's emotional attitudes. While positive emotions may make it easier to be ethical - as wind in the sails - if ethical obligations are recognized only when relevant positive emotions are present, one is not really or fully an ethical person. The real test of an ethical person is doing the right thing whether relevant emotions are present or not.

Exactly. To borrow an example from Adam Smith, if one were to lose one's little finger, one would probably feel more strongly about it than if, say, one were to hear that a million people died in an earthquake in China on the evening news. But that's shouldn't mean that one ought to hold one's little finger to have greater moral importance than a million people in China. If there was some runaway-Trolley-esque scenario where sacrificing your little finger would save a million lives, we can say without a doubt that saving the lives is the right moral choice- even if you feel the pain of losing the finger more strongly as an individual.

The relation of ethics to the emotions is complicated, but I suspect you guys have gone a little too far in the rationalistic direction here. A little Hume would be good medicine.

The fact is that if we did not have a certain nature as creatures that care about e.g., suffering & flourishing, then all the ethical discourse in the world would not suffice to move us anywhere, anymore than my telling you that action X is expected to increase the amount of jellyfish in the Mediterranean automatically motivates you to perform action X.

For ethics, one needs both the emotional motivation, and the universalizing ability of reason.

Good supporting point, Tony. Anyone who has had the idea that being ethical is a matter of being filled with universal love or altruism - things that don't necessarily lead to ethically correct action btw - might be relieved that these things have little to do with ethics essentially. It means that as long as one is making the right ethical decisions, one can have whatever emotional attitudes one likes. One can love and care in completely arbitrary ways and even be a complete misanthrope. It doesn't matter to ethics. But this is not say that the content of an ethical obligation cannot be to act in a caring way.

I would say that you're conceiving the subject matter of ethics too broadly. Ethics concerns obligations of a certain kind that we have to others, which is a rational rather than a caring matter. Motivation for being ethical is beside the point. But on this point, it's questionable whether emotional attitudes are the proper motivator for ethical action. My point isn't that you're wrong, but only that there are other views worthy of consideration. On my view, for example, the proper motiving value of being ethical is personal integrity. Once we value personal integrity, ethical obligations are binding on us. I heartily endorse loving and caring about people, it's just that such have but an oblique relation to ethics, in my view.

If I understand Slote's view correctly (which he describes at the beginning as "an intersection between virtue ethics, care ethics, and moral sentimentalism"), and if it's true, then it seems that we can indeed judge an agent's actions to be right or wrong, regardless of what s/he was feeling at the time. But the obligations themselves are at least partly modeled on the kinds of actions that one would expect from an empathic person in a particular situation.

Hope I got that right. In any case, it sounds plausible to me - partly because it jibes with the kinds of limited obligations that many of us (though apparently not all - e.g. Singer) to which we intuitively hold each other.

If question is whether it is a defensible ideal to give unconditionally, then I would agree that this ideal at a minimum is not practical. I don't think we transcend the self by striving for selflessness.

I think the way to become gradually more selfless is to see that selfishness and altruism are two sides of the same coin. They oppose each other in one sense, but can be also be seen within a complementary framework.

I think the exploration of that intersection;the place where we need not deprive ourselves to productively expand our circle is the best hope for a stable moral progression.

> selfishness and altruism are two sides of the same coin. They oppose each other in one sense, but can be also be seen within a complementary framework. <

Completely agree, but Asma isn't talking about selfishness here, he is talking about the morality of duty toward close kind and friends vs the morality of duty toward strangers. We may have both duties, but they may be different in strength.

I was thinking of selfishness in the sense of the stronger duty we feel to those closer to our selves vs those farther removed. The ultimate selfishness relates specifically to 'us', but we also feel as those closer in the circle are more a part of 'us' then those farther away. So I think the analogy holds from that perspective.

The Evolution of JusticeBeyond the Goddess Justice and her grey shades of fairness is the crystal clear vision of light, of black or white, of absolute. All she needs to do to be true is remove the blind obscuring her vision and throw away her uncertain, unjust scale. It is time to let her see and set her free.Just Be,

It seems pretty clear that Piety is committed to a religious point of view, and, arguably, utilitarians like Singer advocate what is in effect a secularized version of religious ethics. What characterizes such approaches is the belief that ethical considerations trump all others. Ethics is all, and all-encompassing.

My preferred option would be a kind of minimalist rule-based ethics which takes account of our limitations, such as the emotional tendencies and capacities as described by Asma. Why  unless you are religiously inclined  see ethics as the be-all and end-all?

I wasn't initialy trying to re-define selfishness. Utilitarianism and perhaps buddhism seem to define a moral code that celebrates an unselfishness defined at the extreme. This seeminly implys a negation of a self-interest that I feel is unwarranted, as I see a balance of self-interest as complementing a healthy level of unselfishness.

I was suggesting that this complementary concept could be applied to how we think about descisions at various points along the self-stranger continuum.

Part of that would be the greater sense of fulfillment we recieve from gifts to those closer to us as you mention. We may also be better able to asses the longer term consequences likely to emerge from bonds built by more local giving as opposed to distant gifts. Distant gifts are likely to be more efficient in short-term utility, but evaluation of long-term effects are not likely to be simple and could even end up being counter productive.

So I think if we can give in a way that seems produce a complementary ripple extending from those close to those farther outside our circle I think it is justifiable. Your daughters education would seem to fall into that type of giving.

> I also think that you don't need to be told to favour your daughter over other people's daughters. That tendency is already there. Calling that morality is just doing whatever you are already doing morality <

You and several others seems to be missing the point. Asma isn't just describing what comes natural to most humans, he is making a moral argument in favor of it. That argument is based on virtue ethics, and particularly on the ideas that we have a special duty toward people that depend on us, and that cultivating human relations also makes you a better person. One may not like the idea, or prefer utilitarianism to it, but it just isn't only a matter of calling what you like to do moral and be done with it.

//but it just isn't only a matter of calling what you like to do moral and be done with it.//

I'm not saying that. I'm not saying that Asma is calling what he likes to do morality. I'm saying that he's calling what we're already doing morality. No human, unless he's a psychopath, has to read a philosophy book to feel like he has a special duty to his kith and kin. A person who has never read a philosophy book would be doing just what you're doing - favouring his daughter over other people's daughters.

There are lots of ways to botch one's obligations to kith and kin and many folks do just that (e.g. consider abuse, neglect, and crimes of passion). Whether they're clinically diagnosable as psychopaths or not (many are not), I would say that they're all in a (virtue-ethical) sense "immoral."

Most of those who neglect their obligations to their kith and kin, do know that they have an obligations to their kith and kin, unlike psychopaths. They just don't care. I'm pretty sure that the reason they don't care is not because they have read too much Peter Singer.

I think you allude to a larger question here, which is: What, if any, effect does reading moral philosophy have on one's behavior? It's an empirical question, which is not necessarily limited to any particular philosopher, school, or normative theory (e.g. utilitarianism, virtue ethics, deontology).

But, let's assume for the sake of argument that the effect is significant. If so, then any theory that ignores, takes for granted, or makes light of our obligations to kith and kin is, in my opinion, a flawed one.

//If so, then any theory that ignores, takes for granted, or makes light of our obligations to kith and kin is, in my opinion, a flawed one.//

See, here's the problem. I cannot say this statement is flawed without grounding my argument on another system of morality. Similarly that statement of yours is already grounded in some system of morality. If we're from two planets, and have completely different mind designs, there is no way either of us can persuade the other.

But we are human, so we perhaps want same things. So would you prefer it if the Iraqis made an artificial super-intelligence that favours Iraqis over all others, and would obliterate the rest of the world if that's what was necessary to save the Iraqis? So can we at least agree that utilitarianism is better for an AI than kith and kin morality, at least when the AI is not built by us?

Premise: It's possible for a moral agent to behave morally in the public domain (or outside of one's affective community) and immorally in the private domain (or inside of one's affective community).

This sounds plausible to me (e.g. imagine a moral agent who makes great personal sacrifices for some noble cause, like fighting Third-World poverty or defending innocent victims abroad against an aggressor, but who neglects or abuses his/her children). It needn't be a common problem (although I suspect that it's more common that you suggested) in order for the argument to hold that we have ethical obligations to kith and kin that ought not be neglected.

So can we at least agree that utilitarianism is better for an AI than kith and kin morality, at least when the AI is not built by us?

AI might be the only suitable purpose for utilitarianism. :-)

But, seriously, I don't really have a horse in this philosophers' race. All three of the major normative theories (utilitarianism, virtue ethics, and deontology) sound plausible to me in different degrees, depending upon the situation, and based on my lay person's knowledge of them.

If I sound here like an advocate for virtue ethics, that's partly because of the framing, but also because it resonates fairly strongly with some of my intuitions - more so than I expect a strict utilitarian or deontologist would allow or admit.

Because we are human I think we can better gauge the ultimate utility of our favors the more closely within our circle we apply them. This does not mean we should limit the scope of our vision regarding an expanding circle. I think there are favors we can apply to our inner circle that help those inside see a larger circle.

I think discussion gets stuck when we classify one idea like 'utilitarianism' as the correct moral way. By taking this stance we then look for the conflict to shoot down another idea. Instead I think the conflict presents on opportunity to explore how the two ideas may complement each other.

//It's possible for a moral agent to behave morally in the public domain and immorally in the private domain.//

One example that comes to mind is Ghandhi. He didn't care much for his family. But he saved the world.

//AI might be the only suitable purpose for utilitarianism. :-)//

The reason utilitarianism is preferred for AIs is because it is dangerous to the world if there's an extremely powerful non-utilitarian agent. So you should at least begin to wonder whether it is a good idea to have extremely powerful non-utilitarian men. Is it a good if there's an extremely powerful man who cares only for kith and kin? I don't think so, unless I'm in his inner circle.

//it resonates fairly strongly with some of my intuitions//

No doubt. That's why I'm saying that Asma is calling what we are already doing morality. In our ancestral environment we lived in small groups. Even now, if you take the world population, most of us live in villages. So there's no wonder that we have virtue ethical intuitions. That doesn't mean it's best for the world.

Seth_blog,//I think discussion gets stuck when we classify one idea like 'utilitarianism' as the correct moral way.//

True, but it's Asma who said that utilitarianism is not moral. This is a response.

I am in strong agreement with some of the earlier comments on how one can become a better utilitarian over time, despite the obvious fact that sitting down and rationalizing every decision a person makes in a perfectly utilitarian framework is impractical. I recently took a social/political philosophy class last, and after reading John Stuart Mill's "On Liberty," I have to say that the idea of utilitarianism seems extremely intuitive. Perhaps this is why Mill's ideas of liberalism and utilitarianism have had a profound and lasting effect on every modern democratic government in existence (in my opinion, he is the most important political philosopher of all time).

My final paper was on Mill's utilitarian theory, and I came to the same conclusion that others in the comments have; it is not an absolute answer to every moral dilemma, but it is an extremely powerful framework that I firmly believe can be better refined over time. Every good idea is built on through the years, with inconsistencies being polished off and a better understanding of its fundamental tenets coming into view.

Massimo, I know you state in the article that you are not a utilitarian, but I was wondering if you think the idea has any worth or could point us in some way towards true understanding of morality? (Perhaps in one of its contemporary forms)

I am somewhat surprise that Asma's position is so controversial. I remember taking a class on self-interest and egalitarianism where there were many articles making a somewhat similar point to what Asma is making. For example, I know Nagel believes egalitarianism is something that societies should strive for in their policies yet is not something that should completely dictate an individual's actions. There was another article that showed someone being a good husband for purely egalitarian reasons, and the problems that arise from judging the individual's self-interests to those close to them by egalitarianism (especially with concepts of love).

> A person who has never read a philosophy book would be doing just what you're doing - favouring his daughter over other people's daughters. <

Again, missing the point. Asma is making a positive (prescriptive) argument, not just describing a matter of fact. That, apparently, is also what Piety completely missed in her response.

pete,

> I know you state in the article that you are not a utilitarian, but I was wondering if you think the idea has any worth or could point us in some way towards true understanding of morality? <

I don’t think there is such thing as “true” morality, but there are better and worse ways to think of it. I rank utilitarianism better than deontological systems, but prefer virtue ethics. I explain why I think morality isn’t about truths, but should be thought as a way of reasoning about our problems, here: http://goo.gl/qXlmp. Also check this entries in the same series, on utilitarianism: http://goo.gl/ANAEW, and on virtue ethics: http://goo.gl/wv4Z3.

No I'm not. What I said Asma is calling what we are already doing morality. It's prescriptive. There's no such thing as descriptive morality, as you know better than I know. What I'm saying is there's no reason to do that. You don't have to tell a human being that "you should value other human beings more than you value other species." Vast majority of them already do. You don't have to tell a person "you should eat food." He's already doing it. Asma's morality can be useful though to anyone who doesn't want moral progress, and petty politicians who play tribal politics.

Asme is an all or nothing person like A. Rand! My " tribe " is everyone on the planet: I strongly favor Paul Kurtz's planetary ethic. Yes, I am a utilitarian, albeit an eclectic one. I spend mainly on myself as I have little money but I give what I can to charity. People can give their daughters shoes and yet give to charity say, a hundred dollars a year. One does what one can-not Asme's straw man! We erred with Iraq the second time. We could have waited and perhaps ,later do what we did for Libya. We must consider others. Collateral damage can be too high! That's why we question the drone attacks in Pakistan. I care more for Malala Yousafzaf than for Asme. She transcends her tribe. By te way, make that Social Spencerism than Social Darwinism, that blasphemy against him! Oh, and one can also call S.S. Spencer-Randism. She was worse than he with her egoism. Didn't Bishop Butler eviscerate egoism? My system calls for that eclecticism. Google and perhaps, vet covenant morality for humanity- the presumption of humanism. Googling Lamberth's naturalist arguments gives my other naturalist arguments.

I don't think Asma's argument -- and he has some valid points -- undermines utilitarianism. A tent pole lifts some parts of the tent higher than others; does that mean the person sleeping under it is not getting the utility he needs from it? Similarly, your daughter's college fund might not be directly helping the poor, but that doesn't mean it isn't an investment that has an expectation of benefiting society in the long run. I think it's a very rigid interpretation of utilitarianism that says we must maximize utility by distributing the wealth as uniformly as possible. It may turn out that such an approach isn't maximal after all.

At the very least, I would think that Asma's argument tempers utilitarianism.

For example, he refers to research that suggests that a "crucial ingredient in human happiness...[is] strong social bonds" and that "the most important element in a good life (eudaimonia) is close family and friendship ties."

While I would agree that that's by no means a smoking-gun refutation of utilitarianism, I would also be very surprised if a narrow-minded pursuit of strong social bonds turned out to be "utility-maximizing" in the strict egalitarian/other-neutral sense that utilitarians often seem to prescribe to us as the gold standard of moral behavior.

By the same token, Asma (or virtue ethicists, in general) might have to temper his emphasis on favoritism and "positive nepotism" somewhat, so as to make it possible to distribute our chances for achieving happiness more equitably.

I suspect that, in Part 2, Massimo will provide a resolution somewhere along those lines.

What I was getting at -- and the tent pole analogy is a good way to express this -- is that "utility maximizing" is not necessarily an egalitarian pursuit.

Supposing we had a tent that needed to cover a large area, and a 100-foot pole that we could cut up in any way needed to cover that area. Asma's interpretation of utilitarianism, applied to tents, would imply that the best way to do it would be to cut the pole into 50 2-foot lengths. That way, we could distribute the poles around the area in a very egalitarian fashion, so the sag between the poles is minimized, and this meets Asma's straw-man definition of utilitarianism that "I should reduce my own family’s life to a subsistence level, just above the poverty line, and distribute the surplus wealth to needy strangers." Now nobody has room to stand up, but everybody's need to be able to get around is met -- they just have to crawl. Leaving the pole at 100 feet is the other extreme, but now the tent is just hanging loosely at the top like a flag, and everybody gets wet when it rains. A true utilitarian would find it better to use, say, 10 10-foot poles to hold up the tent.

By the same token, I don't think a society in which everybody is equally unable to afford the college education needed to become a doctor or an engineer or a physicist is better, even in a utilitarian sense, than one in which Massimo can save as much as it takes in order to send his daughter to the best school possible. But the extreme where 1% of the population is spending their money on yachts and private jets while the other 99% are spending their time doing the dirty work for the 1% is also not very attractive.

In other words, I don't think utilitarianism (as an idea) needs "tempering". But, in practice, measuring "utility" requires establishing metrics, and I think it is crucial that the metrics be chosen wisely.

Richard, that's why I refer to the all or nothing fallacy and to A.Rand. Note how people who criticize utilitarianism/consequentialism themselves are using consequentialist arguments! Utilitarianism then perforce would deny anyone the right to overcome the rights of people for the sake of others. Why then that would be a straw man against it! Epicurianism and Utilitarianism and Sam Harriss' ethic all favor our flourishing as does Aristotle's.